Dylan’s world was a tight, warm prison of fabric and skin, the teacher’s shorts and underwear pinning him in the crease of his plump ass. The classroom had gone quiet, the students long gone, leaving only the faint creak of the chair and the teacher’s steady breathing. Dylan’s heart thumped, the thrill of his predicament warring with impatience. “Come on, teach,” he muttered. “Field trip time.”
As if on cue, the teacher shifted, the pressure easing. Dylan braced himself as the massive form rose, the chair groaning in relief. Freedom! But Dylan’s triumph was short-lived. He was still wedged in the fabric, trapped in the teacher’s shorts as the giant began to move. Each step was a seismic event, the teacher’s muscular cheeks flexing around Dylan, jostling him in his snug cocoon. “Whoa, rollercoaster from hell,” Dylan gasped, half-laughing, half-panicked.
The teacher’s strides carried him out of the classroom, the world beyond a blur of booming footsteps and muffled sounds. Dylan caught glimpses of light through the fabric’s weave—hallways, then sunlight. “He’s heading to his car,” Dylan realized, the rhythmic sway of the teacher’s walk confirming it. The heat and pressure were intense, but Dylan’s curiosity burned brighter. “Guess I’m carpooling,” he quipped, wriggling to adjust his position.
The teacher stopped, keys jingling. A car door creaked open, and the teacher sat, the sudden compression slamming Dylan deeper into the fabric’s folds. The engine rumbled to life, vibrating through the teacher’s body. Dylan exhaled, pinned but alive. “Okay, road trip,” he whispered, his mind racing. The teacher’s ass was his world now, but the car offered new possibilities—maybe a chance to slip into a pocket or escape at a stop.
Dylan’s options were limited but tantalizing. He could stay put, riding out the journey until the teacher reached his destination, hoping for a chance to slip free. Or he could squirm, risking detection but possibly loosening the fabric enough to slide into the teacher’s pocket or onto the car seat. “Stay or squirm,” Dylan muttered, the thrill of the unknown urging him on. “What’s it gonna be?”
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